Inspired

by Jessica Florence

  “I couldn’t imagine feeling that way about my family,” I admitted, feeling bad that he had these emotions toward his parents rolling inside him.

  “Your family is ten times better than mine. I wish I had your family.” He turned on his side, so we could look into each other’s eyes, like he needed to see me to help get out of his thoughts.

  “Once you eat my Nonna’s food, you’re counted as family. Sorry I forgot to mention the rules. You’re a Moretti as of about a week ago.”

  He smiled, and the feeling of sadness lifted off my chest.

  “So, should I start calling you cousin while we fuck?”

  He reached out and pulled me closer. I shrieked and tried to smack his arm, showing that his teasing words had gone too far, but he pinned me to the bed in seconds, and his lips were pressed against my swollen ones.

  “I don’t care what you call me as long as you call me yours in this moment.”

  It was meant to come out as a joke, a retort to his, but there was something heavy in his expression as he pulled back to look at me with those blue eyes.

  No words came as I parted my legs and let him make love to me until I needed to leave for the airport, his gaze lingered on mine as we followed each other into release. Sealing our fates without our awareness or a warning to caution our hearts from what was happening between us.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Mia

  Logan drove me to the airport and gave me a kiss good-bye, one that promised that, when we saw each other face-to-face again there would be many household casualties from our reunited activities.

  As soon as the plane was in the air, I strode to the back room where a bed was and passed out for the whole flight home. I was exhausted and didn’t care if the plane crashed while I was asleep. It was worth the lost hours of dreams.

  Jay was waiting for me at the airport in one of the town cars, and for a total of five minutes on the drive to the hotel, he managed to hold in his excitement of knowing what I had gone out to Utah for.

  “So, I’m guessing I can mark Have sex with Logan off the calendar then? Or should I book that particular venture every day for the foreseeable future?” His shit-eating grin along with his words brought heat to my cheeks.

  “You just couldn’t control yourself, could you?”

  His eyes widened, and dare I say, his smile got wider as he threw his hands up in the air and then pointed a finger at me.

  “Me? You just couldn’t control yourself! Leaving the gala early, hopping on a plane, and banging your life coach in a competitor’s hotel all day! I just hope you left butt cheek marks all over the place and smeared some love juice all over their couches, those furniture-stealing bastards.”

  “Oh God.” I covered my face, mortified.

  “Yeah, you did, you little siren you. Well, good fucking job. I’m glad you took what you wanted. You’re a badass boss bitch. About time you realized it.”

  I peeked at his face from between my fingers, seeing if he was joking, and nothing but pride showed on his features.

  “This is embarrassing.”

  Almost as much as the conversation with Mom and Gia the other night about having sex with Logan. Which had me making a mental note to never admit to them that we’d had sex. A lot of sex. Like all-over-the-hotel-room sex, in positions with names I couldn’t even pronounce.

  “My boss is a freeeak,” Jay sang.

  I was grateful that the soundproof window was up, so my driver wouldn’t be mortified along with me.

  “Okay, okay, moving on. Tell me about business.”

  Jay rolled his eyes at my attempt to change the subject but gave me what I wanted. Everything was fine, as normal. I’d have to leave in a week for my trip to Vegas, and then there was a gala the following week. All was right, and I felt like I could handle the few weeks to come. Including whatever was to happen between Logan and me.

  Thoughts of him and what we’d shared followed me to the hotel and up to my home.

  Even as I showered, every movement reminded me of what we had done and what I prayed was to come.

  But there was something else digging at my thoughts as I lay down to take a two-hour nap before heading over to my parents’ house for our Sunday dinner.

  It wasn’t just a simple crush on my life coach that I felt anymore. It was something more, something real, and it gave me a little flutter in my tummy.

  I liked him a lot—that I knew. It was obvious, and everyone could see it. But I’d liked plenty of guys before, even Wallace.

  I snuggled my Baymax and closed my eyes. Attempting to clear my head and see his face, that smile with those blue eyes looking at me like I’d hung the moon and painted the stars.

  Feelings of joy and surprise and serenity filled me, all the way to my red-painted toes.

  Had Wallace ever made me feel like this when I thought of his face, waking up to him every morning as he was asleep on the pillow beside me? What had I felt then?

  Security, safety, and stability.

  I’d never felt this overwhelming peace inside me.

  I knew then what was happening. I was falling in love with Logan. A love like I’d never been in before, an uncharted sea of emotions that I had no sail for.

  But among the fear settling inside me—the fear of the unknown, the fear of unrequited feelings, and the fear my own future demise—was hope.

  Hope for a future that I’d never seen for myself. One where I was free to be me. A future where I was with someone and felt like I was enough for both myself and for him. There was no need to conquer the world with him by my side. We were the only world we needed. We were enough.

  I was scared shitless and didn’t manage to nap for the two hours I’d planned to do before giving up and getting dressed for Sunday dinner. I wanted to call Logan and tell him what I’d discovered inside myself, but I was afraid. I shouldn’t be. He wouldn’t judge me—that I knew.

  “No, he wanted me to talk to him when I was going crazy, and this falls under that category,” I told myself as I stared at my reflection.

  “But what if it freaks him out, and he doesn’t want to see me again?

  “Well, he is under contract to help you sort your shit out.

  “Yeah. But I think I’m gonna keep this one to myself until I really understand it.

  I shook my head, feeling like a nut bag for having a talk with myself like the woman in the mirror was another person. It was like that scene from The Lord of the Rings come to life.

  Snickering, I leaned in closer to the reflection.

  “We want Mia’s precious.” I tried changing my voice to sound more like the creature from the films and then ran away from the bathroom, laughing at myself. At least I found myself hilarious again. I’d missed being weird with myself. I mean, if you couldn’t be weird by yourself, then who could you be weird with?

  I opened the door and left, feeling a lightness on my shoulders despite realizing I was falling for Logan. I’d cross that bridge when I got there. For now, I was going to go eat and hang out with my crazy family, who loved me for who I was, exactly as I was now.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Logan

  I’d done everything I could, and yet, as I stared at the clouds passing by the airplane window, I felt nothing but sadness and remorse.

  I’d stayed for a week after Dad’s funeral, kept checking on Mom, and made sure everything for the estate was handled. There was no reason for me to stay any longer, and Mom had kept telling me that I wasn’t going to fix her, so I needed to go back to my life and forget them like I had before.

  A typical approach of blame-shifting. Someone with a narcissistic tendency like Mom, would use this tactic frequently when she felt guilt and shame but chose to turn it around on someone else, making her out to be the victim, and sadly, many people believed it to be true. People kept asking me why I’d left and abandoned Mom to be alone with Dad. Or why I wasn’t there for her more, trying to help her.

  I knew the real
story, the real feelings behind everything, but it wasn’t a joy ride to be bombarded with the constant blame for someone else’s actions. Especially when the accusers didn’t know all the sides.

  Did they know that my parents used to tell me how great a life they would have lived if I hadn’t been born?

  No. They saw that my parents had provided a roof over my head and kept me alive until I was old enough to start working, and then I took care of myself. Only coming home to sleep before going to school and working until they were asleep, over and over till graduation.

  I’d worked my ass off through school and gotten my degree all on my own.

  They hadn’t even shown up when I walked across the stage to accept my degree.

  They had been at my wedding and managed to keep it together. They asked me for money only once, which I gave, but told them I would never give another dime. I didn’t believe in helping people who chose not to help themselves. It was a waste of money and breath.

  Still, I tried. I did try to help Mom, to show her that the Earth was still moving without her toxic husband, and she had a life to live. I’d done the best I could and left.

  I was riddled with emotions and needed to get back to some normalcy. Away from the scrutiny casting shame on my shoulders

  And back to Mia.

  We’d talked, her telling me about her days and what she was feeling. I could tell there was something she was keeping to herself, but for now, that was okay. I’d help her sort through her feelings, and eventually, it would either pass, or it’d come up in conversation.

  Images of our day in the hotel were constantly on my mind, dredged up in times of need when the pressure of not losing my cool was too much.

  Those same images had me leaving the airport in my Jeep as soon as I could, and instead of going home, I drove to her hotel. Needing to see her, breathe her in like a much-needed gasp of fresh air.

  No one stopped me as I waltzed up to Mia’s office, having seen me plenty to know I was here for the queen of the land. Jay gave me a knowing look but didn’t hesitate to open the door for me.

  Seeing her sitting in a green dress on the other side of that desk stirred me to my core. I wanted to stomp over to her and instantly lay claim to her lips.

  But then her head came up from whatever she had been looking at on the computer, and I knew that kiss would have to wait. She was not okay.

  “What’s going on?” Life coach duties came first; lover came second.

  “I’m just feeling lame, and I know that’s lame in itself, which makes me feel even lamer.”

  She sighed and sat back against her chair. Then, she took a sip of the water that was sitting on her desk. Good, at least she was taking care of herself more like I’d told her to in the beginning.

  “Why are you feeling lame?” I plopped in the seat across from her and waited.

  She pursed her lips and stayed silent for another minute, maybe choosing her words.

  “I just feel like I should be grateful and happy all the time for being successful and having all I have. Instead, I feel like I haven’t done anything and lazy since I tend to give up on stuff before even starting them sometimes. Which I know sounds dumb. I am very successful, but I’m beginning to truly understand that, no matter what you have amassed in life, you are not above still feeling like a failure.”

  This was a battle she’d constantly fight until she died, one many people had.

  “That’s because you’re a perfectionist. And close that mouth. There is nothing wrong with perfectionism. It’s not what you think it is. Perfectionists are not OCD. They are not the same thing. Perfectionists have a report card or list of their accomplishments in their head. They are driven to accomplish goals, very future-focused, and are utterly terrified of failure. Which tends to lead toward unrealistic expectations, critical thinking of oneself, and an all-or-nothing attitude. If there is a chance of failure, any chance at all, then a perfectionist won’t even try. Masters at procrastination.

  “The key for you is to look at how far you have come. You have done so much and in such a short time. Mia, you are amazing and driven beyond belief. You just have to stay in the now, focus on the now, and remember, there are no mistakes. Everything that happens has a lesson to be learned. If you fall off a bike and get scratched up, then you learn to either accept scratches as something that comes with the territory of riding a bike or you wear safety gear. You accept and adapt. Let go of the loss of control and accept what is. Will you die if you fail? No. Will you be able to go on with life if you fail? Yes. You can fucking do anything you set your mind to, Mia, because you are a force of nature.”

  Jesus, I needed a drink after that speech. I hadn’t expected to go on a tirade like that for our reunion. But she was going to fight me, and this needed to be heard. Perfectionism was something that was ingrained in Mia’s being. It was the one-character trait that had led Mia down the path she’d been on trying to control everything, but it also led her to hiring me.

  “Well … I feel like you just hit the nail on the head, and I hadn’t known I had that nail exposed,” she admitted, not feeling bitter about me peeling back a layer and forcing her to look at it. She was simply digesting my words as they were—the truth, and she knew it.

  “What were you doing before I walked in?” I was curious where all this had begun.

  She’d seemed fine the last time I talked to her. Better than fine actually since we’d just had a bout of phone sex.

  “I was just scrolling on social media.” She covered her face with her hands, feeling embarrassed to admit she had been wasting time on the internet instead of whatever she should have been doing.

  “Well, that’s the fucking problem. Social media is a poison to your mind. It creates a high, much like a drug’s effect, when someone likes your shit or comments. You want more and feel validated when people engage with you. Like you’re important. It also makes you compare your life with others. Their highlight reels to your behind-the-scenes. It’s all a lie, and you shouldn’t waste your life on it. You’ve got a real life to live, not that shit. Check in on people, do business, but then get the hell out of there. Like right now. Let’s go.”

  I was getting her away from the computer and away from her own mind, stat.

  There was no plan in my head of what we were going to do, but I couldn’t let her sit here in this negative air right now.

  “Okay. Let me just close out of this and tell Jay I’m heading out.” She stood and didn’t question what or where we were going.

  Jay waggled his eyebrows at her, and she gave him a death glare that held no effect on his well-being. He actually laughed instead of cringed, as she’d probably meant for him to do.

  As the elevator closed with just us in it, I wrapped my arms around her, pulled her against my chest, and leaned in to press my lips against hers.

  “I missed you, Mia. Should have said that first,” I murmured against her lips, and her arms came up to my shoulders, fingers digging in slightly.

  “Are you taking my advice and going to sate me with orgasms again, so I will forget everything streamlining through my head?” she purred jokingly, but honestly, it wasn’t a bad idea.

  I hit the button for her penthouse floor and began working on making her only think of me and my cock for the next hour.

  Chapter Forty

  Mia

  “What are we doing here?” I looked around the bar by the bay we’d parked at—Tink’s Tavern.

  “I thought you could use an outing to let loose and get out of your head. It’s a dangerous place in there,” he teased, trying to make me laugh.

  I rolled my eyes instead. Whatever. I could go for a drink. Help Logan’s words sink in from earlier about being a perfectionist. It made sense really, but I didn’t think facing it and accepting that I was like that was going to be an easy fix. I was who I was. I just needed to adapt, as suggested.

  “Well, there is the king of minds himself. We were just talking about you.” A
giant man with dark hair and green eyes was smiling at Logan with a chicken wing in his hand. He hadn’t noticed me yet until the man sitting next to him, who honestly looked like he could be related to Logan with the same build, blond hair, and darker blue eyes, nudged the other and then nodded toward me.

  “Hot damn, Logan. You go to Utah and come back with a date. I’m impressed.” He did indeed look impressed that I was here. And not in a creepy way. He was genuinely interested that Logan had a girl next to him.

  “This big jerk is Tate, and the broody gentleman next to him is Callum. Callum works with me at Inspired, and Tate is a sports announcer. Guys, this is Mia,” Logan introduced us.

  I waved, feeling that this wasn’t the sort of setting to go all business on them and straighten my spine while shaking their hands to show I wasn’t afraid.

  “Wait. I know you.” Tate’s eyes narrowed, and his hand went up to rub his jaw while he tried piecing together who I was, and now that he’d mentioned it, I was pretty sure he had been at a charity event or two I was at.

  Realization dawned on him, if the widened eyes and the dropped-open mouth were any clues.

  “Mia motherfucking Moretti. That’s your client? Holy hell.” Tate was starstruck it seemed, which made me giggle, and his table mate elbowed him in the side, probably telling him to calm his tits.

  “Right. Maybe this was a bad decision.” Logan nervously looked at me and then at his friends, like they were going to frighten me.

  The thought was laughable. I handled men more powerful and with a God complex daily. I could handle these two easily.

  “Now, I think it was the perfect idea.” I gave him a wink and then walked over to the bar to look at their selection.

  An older woman walked up to where I was and pulled out a glass for me.

  “Whiskey sour, please. And hi. You must be Tink. I’m Mia.”